


The Ever-Changing Storm

by Uchuu



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Human, Anxiety, Body Image, Disordered Eating, Drugs, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Implied Amethyst/Pearl (Steven Universe), Marijuana, Past Pearl/Rose Quartz (Steven Universe), Past Underage Sex, Pearl is 20 and Sheena is 28, Piercings, Tattoos, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 18:57:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8113744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uchuu/pseuds/Uchuu
Summary: Pearl's mother has never acted as one. She's spent the past seven years controlling every aspect of Pearl's life from her dance practices, to her auditions, clubs, school activities and right into her eating habits. Pearl is malnourished, feels as if her body is slowly giving out on her and that she's going insane due to her constant fears and anxieties. The only thing that relaxes her and makes her feel comfortable anymore is a woman she meets at a party. A woman trying to help her take control of her life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Keeping the name Sheena just because.

Crying alone in a bedroom intended for jackets and coats was not how she expected to spend her Friday night. She was dragged to go to some party last minute by a friend who needed a ride there in the next town over. Not only did she oblige but took the time to look her version of nice for the stupid thing. But even though there was a live band outside in the garage and inside there was at least a dozen or more people in the living room—with another dozen wondering around the house—she was anxious and uncomfortable. It wasn't just the people being there it was the people who were older than her and even though they had good paying jobs and a decent career lined up, they still found the time to come out here and hang out with friends and drink. She didn't really have that; she barely has any friends let alone a stable career or any career for that matter. 

She spends most of her time in the places she goes to comparing herself to the people around her. She's tall—maybe too tall—and thin—possibly too thin by doctor standards—and she's this constant ball of anxiety and fear about eighty percent of the time while the other twenty she was drunk or asleep. Being at home in her bedroom or even alone in public was better than being around complete strangers and while she used to have medicine that helped but her parents stopped paying for it because they were convinced nothing was wrong with her. She because so good at pretending as if she has all of the puzzle pieces put together but her brain and life felt like a jigsaw puzzle from Hell and she couldn't stand the constant failure of finding pieces that didn't seem to fit. It's why she's glad she had at least one friend in this place that she knew and could trust. Someone who made her life feel like it wasn't the ultimate mess it was. 

Her friend had found her almost twenty minutes ago and handed her a bottle of vodka which smells like peach but burns down her throat like any other would. She drinks it as she sits with her knees to her chest and her back against the bed. People have come in and out of the room but no one really stops to talk to her or notices her or cares about her being in here until the band starts their set for the night. Someone was going around letting people know about the performance and in comes this pink haired woman to let her personally know. She stops for a second, eyes Pearl up and down before leaving and Pearl blushes as she's so embarrassed but she doesn't really care about the party or the band, she cares about people looking at her or noticing her. If she could she'd will herself invisible or away. 

She only even came to this party because Amethyst asked her and needed a ride she felt horrible saying no as much as she didn't want to. She didn't have anything better planned but she wants to leave and wonders driving back home and leaving her friend stranded with the bottle of alcohol she's had is a good idea and she stands up to see. She feels fine enough she believes. She leaves the bottle on the floor and rummages for her sweater underneath the mix of other peoples stuff and slips it on before leaving the room. 

The air outside of that room reeks of alcohol and sex and Pearl wrinkles her nose at it. There's nothing more she wants to do than to leave this place but there are people blocking the entrance and she has to walk towards the kitchen to get to the back door and then outside. People are a nuisance, it's her only opinion of them and it's because of that opinion she has only had one friend in her entire twenty years of living—not counting the woman she dated when she was in high school—and people rarely spoke to her unless they needed something. She was student body treasurer in high school and president of the debate team, vice president of robotics, she did school plays and sports, theater club, ballet, gymnastics, she even did modeling for a few months; even with all of those things she still never made friends. People tried to of course but she was always so focused on her future careers and goals that she never bothers. People are simply not worth her time or they just don't like her. 

Pearl sighs, makes her way through the people trying to head out to the front yard and makes it to the kitchen and then the back porch where the chill in the air hits her. Being outside, being alone, and the warmth of her sweater was all she ever needed. Pearl wants to take a seat out here on the bench in the yard but the music from the band starts to play. It's loud, not as loud as she expected it to be but there was shouting and cheering, the sound of the drum mimicked that of her quickening heart beat and she walks around the side of the house to leave. 

She hates it. Hates how anxious and uncomfortable she becomes no matter where she is. Hates how she doesn't have her old medication to help keep her sane because when she had that, leaving her bedroom didn't zap all of her strength. Hates the people who do talk to her and only want a light or want to dance but she wants to go home. She buries her finger into the pocket of her jean and finds her phone to send a message to her friend. Pearl didn't spot her in the house or out in the crowd—that purple hair would be evident from a mile away—so as bad as she feels for leaving, she doesn't have the pressure of staying attached to her at the hip. She isn't going far, she forgets it would maybe an hour walk back home or even longer—and whilst her mother would approve of the exercise and the calories burned and the possible weight loss and how it will help her dance better—she knows she's in no shape to properly make it back.

She decided to waits for her friend at the party over on a bench by the park three blocks over. 

At first she likes that she's alone and then she begins to become afraid, paranoid that if anyone else were to see here alone they would be the first to strike. She doesn't get any relief from the thoughts of her brain and it's never satisfied by any choice she makes. She's talking to herself at this point, trying to calm down and even thinks about calling for a taxi but she doesn't have the money for that either. She toys with her phone in her hand, the battery is going to die soon and now she's just watching the people walking their dogs come into the park and stare at her. It's late, close to ten but it's winter break and most people are out with their dogs or calling the cops to complain about the noise.

She straightens her back when someone sits down next to her at the bench. It's the girl who came into the bedroom she was hiding in. Pearl tries not to look at her, it's a little dark except for the park lights and she can't see much but she can see the resemblance to her last girlfriend in the woman. Not just the hair or the thickness of it but the curve of her lips and the confidence to wear a crop top in the winter. She knows this woman because Amethyst and her were good friends but while she can't place her name, she's definitely remembers being hit on before by this exact woman at another party maybe last week or the week before and even has spoken to her maybe a few dozen times as well in the past. But Amethyst claims they have a real sexual tension going and she should 'hit that'. 

The woman is attractive, nearly ten years older then Pearl—from what Amethyst has told her—but she's a woman Pearl wouldn't mind spending the night with even if she is sure she'd panic at the chance. She always had a thing for older and taller women, maybe it's because of the jump in maturity level or maybe it's because finding someone different than her mother was a nice change for her. She knew it was some sort of coping method for her at the end of the day. She never cared about whatever stigma was out there because she was clearly an adult and was allowed to date who she wanted whether them her age or twice her age. The first person she ever dated was her teacher; she was sixteen at the time and them close to thirty-two. No one ever found out but they broke up when she turned eighteen and her mother confound her to a life of strict scheduling, rules and dance. She always tries not to think about any of that or any thing that happened in her past and how they impacted her current life. Because she feels this instinct to speak to the woman; ask her for her name or how the party was so far, the band but the only thing she blurts out is, “do you need a light?” 

The woman has a joint in her fingers and on any other occasion Pearl might care but she has smoked before in the past just because it can help with anxiety and God did it help. “You have one?” She asks and Pearl digs into her pocket for the lighter. She doesn't have it because she smokes but because the lighter locks and the little wheel helps her when she's feeling fidgety. She hands it over and the woman takes it, “thanks.” She lights her joint, takes a puff of it and hands the lighter back to Pearl. “Are you okay? Usually the only people I see in the coat room are passed out drunk but you just look sad.” 

“I'm sure that's none of your business in the first place but for your information I'm fine. I just don't like crowds.” 

“Pretty shitty for you to go to a party like this then. You're friends with Amethyst, right?” 

“Yes. She needed a ride and then left me alone to socialize with a group of strangers who kept hitting on me.” She wrinkles her nose, shivers a bit in the sudden wind. 

“Well, I could see why people are hitting on you.” The woman chuckles, “did you want some?” She reaches her hand out. “It's a pretty heavy hitter.” 

Pearl thinks about it, she wants to say no but she hates saying no to people. The alcohol helps her anxiety just a little and she doesn't know about the combination but feels like it was worth it to try. Her mother did take her only means of coping away from her and Pearl could blame the woman for any repercussions due to it. “Okay.” It was her only response as she takes the joint from the woman and brings it to her lip for a puff. It goes back and forth like this for a little. Sheena takes the joint and asks an occasional question and hands it back and obtains a vague or very detailed answer. It's normally about the party and why Pearl was near tears in the coat room. Other than that, Pearl feels like the woman is trying to flirt with her but she can never pick up on things like that and has only ever been hit on by men in her past if she isn't counting her past girlfriend.

The one thing she really liked about being high was not feeling so worried, anxious and not having a single care in the world but the other thing was how heighten everything around her became. Touches sometimes felt amazing and hearing became such a challenge because everything was loud and sound felt like colors. There's something about the heat of the smoke digging into her core that she can't describe the feeling of and sure there were bad things but right now she was content, happier than she was at the beginning of the night. It felt good to her because she likes being open and honest with people; telling people how horrible things at home have become over the past years but she normally has such a rough time doing it in a sober state because of how critical she could become.

“Are you coming back to the party?” The woman asks, the joint finished and her getting up to stretch. 

“There are so many people and ugh, it smells horrible.” She whines, looking up at her and noticing how the park lights made the pink of her hair almost glow.

“I live close by if you want to wait where it's warm or I can give you a lift home.” 

“I have to take Amethyst home. She was supposed to take a driver improvement course because she hit twelve points on her license and didn't so her license was suspended for two months. It's her car anyway, I can't just leave it here.” 

“Ouch.” She looks over Pearl again, the light blue of her sweater and her fingers twirling in the loose ends. “So come by and wait until she is done. Give yourself some time to relax and let everything wear off.”

Pearl thinks about it, thinks about going home to her mother's home and smelling like peach vodka and weed. About never being able to see Amethyst again or even out of the house until she was at least thirty. The plan was to take Amethyst to the party and spend the night at her apartment and then promptly return home at nine in the morning. It's the same plan every Friday night and every Saturday she comes home to her mother asking for the clothes she wore the night before and every miniscule detail of what she did. She's not sure why she's thinking about staying at this woman's place when she knows barely anything about this woman who came up to her and offered her drugs but she is. She's thinking about it and she says okay because she's an adult and can make her own decisions. 

“My name is Sheena by the way.” She waits for Pearl to stand up from the bench but she doesn't reply, “and your name?” She raises an eyebrow, as if it was the polite and obvious thing to do. She knows her name, never been formally introduced but she asks out of curiosity. 

“Oh, it's Pearl.”

She breathes, trying to focus in on the cold air but her head is so foggy and walking is a slight challenge for her. She sticks close to Sheena, follows her down the block and then a few streets over until they arrive at this one level house that's not far from the exit to the next city over. She doesn't know how far away she really is from her home but she likes the distance. She notices that there's a motorcycle in the garage and Halloween decorations that haven't been taken down two months ago—she wonders if the house is always like that—the small stairs that lead to the front door have recently been repainted but the railing is creaky and Pearl touches it, pushing the metal slightly to hear the sounds it makes. She's distracted by the sights and sounds and the lights of the inside of Sheena's house. 

It looks lived in, not very messy but Pearl still thinks it could use some tiding up. The layout is very strange, living room to the right of her but the hallway to the rooms is straight ahead of her. There's a small room on the left but it's filled with a bunch of different musical equipment, machines and some boxes. She's not sure what to make of it. When she moves to head into the living room, a cat jumps up on the coffee table and scares her, causing her to knock back into Sheena. “That's my little sisters cat, her name is Dark Sorceress and I don't really know why but I just call her Snowball.” The cat has fluffy white fur and a few dark spots tossed as if she rolled around in ink but Pearl doesn't really see how either name fits. She really doesn't understand anything about cats to begin with. All Snowball does is meow at her before jumping off the table and walking away.

“You live with your sister?” Pearl stands up straight and moves out of the way for Sheena to walk.

“I live alone but my parents didn't like my sister having a pet so I bought one for her and she comes over to spend time with it.” 

“How did you afford a house?” 

“I'm twenty-eight and I have a good job I guess. I wanted to be independent when I was sixteen and have my own place and car and job so that's what I worked to achieve.” She plops onto the couch and pats the spot next to her, “sit down, I won't bite.” 

Pearl does so, stares at the woman and past the green of her eyes. Everything is like a swarm of colors and lights and she blinks to even everything out again. She wonders what Sheena is thinking about, looking at, how their skin would feel against each others. “You've lived her long.” She asks as a question but it doesn't come out that way. 

“Long enough to know you don't live in town.” 

“I'm young, a young and useless ballerina who goes into strangers homes with them.” She's rambling just a little and laughs at the end of her words. “I don't get out much. I live in Beach City.” 

“You okay?” She asks and Pearl leans into the back of the couch with a nod. “Well, it'd be refreshing to see a face like yours around here more often if you want to come by.” 

Pearl blushes, it's evident Sheena is flirting with her and thinks about if her flirting back would be bad. Maybe it's because of the age difference and maybe it's just because she's still a tad anxious. “Friday's are my only free night and I wouldn't want to keep you up all night because you told me you have a job.” She chuckles. 

“Keep me up all night? How do you intend on doing that?” She leans her elbow into the couch, supports her head with her fist.

“I could think of a few ways.” She laughs, turning away from Sheena's stare. She presses her back against the couch, slouching a little and remembering how important proper posture was. She didn't care right now or what her mother had to say. 

Her phone vibrates in her pocket and she digs it out, reading the texts she's been sent. “My friend is staying later and said she'd find a ride home if I want to head back to her apartment.” Normally she would be mad, aggravated with the fact she could have left an hour ago or even sooner. She could have dropped Amethyst off and gone back home but she didn't do that because she was a good friend and good friends waited and were patient. She wasn't mad though, she could barely process any emotions but the spacy and hazy feeling in her head. 

“Calm down from your high and make sure you're sober enough to drive and then I'll let you go home.” 

“Hmm, so your plan was to give me drugs and keep me here.” She was definitely a lightweight when it came to drinking but she only had the one bottle of vodka and besides from the light buzz, Sheena was at least nice enough to watch out for her. 

“Nah, I just thought you looked like you needed to chill out. I was right, too.” Sheena looks at her, “give it a half hour and you'll be fine. You seem like a lightweight but you didn't have much to smoke.” 

“You did say it was a heavy...something. Yeah.” She smiles.

Pearl moves to lay back against the couch but has to undo the bun her hair is up in. She untangles the hair ties and wraps them against her wrist before running her fingers through the dirty blonde mess. She watches Sheena, she's grabbing a cigarette from the box in her pants pocket and Pearl digs into her pocket for her light to hand it to her. “Thanks.” She speaks, lighting her cigarette before giving the lighter back. She takes a drag and exhales it as she looks back down at Pearl. “Have you always been a dancer?”

Pearl nods. 

“You've always had long hair?” 

“I tried cutting it myself when I was a kid but my mother stopped me before I completely ruined it. I had to keep it up for a year until it grew back out. I can't remember in my twenty years of living when the last time I actually had a haircut was but I've always wanted short hair, a pixie or something cute. I like your hair a lot.” 

“You should just do it. Cut it and dye it like peach.” 

“Why peach?” 

“I don't know. You smell like peach I guess.” She shrugs as she takes another drag of her cigarette. “Besides, you never wanted to rebel or do something different?” 

“I can't. My mother is a dancer and so I have to be a dancer. Ballerinas have long hair so I have to keep my hair long. I can't get a job because I don't have experience, I was rejected from the three companies I applied for because of my anxiety and I have money from modeling I did but I'm not allowed to touch it unless I need something for dance which is never. My mom pays for everything because I can't afford the best. I just have to be a dancer.”

Sheena sets her cigarette out in the ashtray on the coffee table and looks back to Pearl. “You can be whatever you want to be and do whatever you want to do...Within reason I suppose. I'm not saying go rob a bank or drop everything to do what you want but that's the glory of being an adult; you can be who want to be.” 

Pearl just whines in response. 

“What do you want right now? Tell me.” 

Pearl has to think about it. There are so many possible answers she could think of at the top of her head. She wants to not be anxious, she wants to get away from her controlling mother, she wants friends—as much as she'd feel overwhelmed around them—and she just wants someone to understand her. “I don't know. Nothing you could possibly just hand to me or change my life.”

“Try me. One thing, doesn't matter what it is or how crazy it sounds.” 

The realization she was talking to a complete stranger hits her hard but she's more comfortable with a complete stranger than she has been living with her mother her entire life. She sits up, pushes strands of hair behind her ear, “control.” She whispers it because sounds are fading in and out and she doesn't want Sheena to hear her say this. She feels like such a bad child. 

“You want control over your own life. You want to be your own person because you're an adult and never had that luxury before. I was the same way growing up and when I turned eighteen I got the hell out. Homophobic parents, they wanted me to be straight and stop having piercings and coloring my hair and get a real job. Go to college and sit in some suit and tie and come home to a family. All I wanted to do was be creative and make art and music.” Sheena gives such a short story about herself, just an example for something Pearl can relate to.  
“What do you like besides dancing?” 

Pearl resonates with what Sheena is saying because her family has been the way. They don't know she's a lesbian or that she hates dancing under her mother's control or dated a woman for two years when she was in high school. Honestly her parents don't know what she wants with her life at all. “I only like dancing. I grew up wanting to be a dancer, I wanted to be like my mom and I went to lessons for a while and I was good...Probably the best honestly but I lost a spot in a performance and my mother was furious. She started obsessing over my training when I was thirteen and her own health problems didn't help it. She wants me to be perfect and I got put into gymnastics and ice skating and cheerleading, I even did track but I just hated it. I just want to dance.” 

“Well, you need to lose all ties that are holding your back. First, your hair. Cutting it short is going to be either the beginning or the end of your change.”

She shakes her head. “Are you insane? I can't just cut off my hair.”

“You cannot let other people control who you are and that is a way your mother controls how you look. I think you should cut it. Not right now but even if it's a year from now, as long as you try to make some sort of steps towards any goal to be who you want to be.”

Pearl knows the woman is right but if she's going to do it she wants to do it for herself not because Sheena is telling her to do it. She's tired of people telling her what to do and how to live and who she is. She's so hesitant because the drugs are wearing down and the alcohol she had earlier has stopped from helping her stay calm. She pulls her knees to her chest, buries her face into the space. 

“Step one is admitting there's a problem and step two is putting your first foot into the door of change. You don't have to do any of that if you aren't comfortable but if you ever feel like you need someone to talk to.” 

“Why are you so good at this?” Pearl asks, leaning her face onto her knee and looking back at her.

“I guess I'm just good at reading people. And I told you, I know what you're going through. It might not be the same situation but the solution is.” 

“Thank you but I feel like I've wasted so much of your time and I should go.” She sighs, lifting her head up. “Why did you come talk to me at the party? No one else really did.” Originally when she took the invitation back to her house she thought it'd be sexual. Clothes gone by the time they reach the couch and her pinned down against it within seconds. Maybe she was just hoping. 

Sheena frowns, she doesn't really want Pearl to leave. “Because you remind me of me when I was a teen. You just haven't quite figured out everything yet and I thought I could help. Share some of my knowledge.” 

She chuckles, “you say it as if you are twenty years older than I am but you're only eight.” Pearl keeps making small talk, she doesn't want to leave and she sure as hell doesn't want to take the drive back to Beach City. It'd be easier if she could just stay.

“Old enough to teach you a life lesson or two. Like I said, my door is always open and if I'm not home...Talk to the cat. Unless, you want to stay.” 

Pearl becomes instantly flustered, “I don't want to stay.” 

“Uh huh. You weren't expecting more when I invited you here?” 

She clears her throat, “no. No clue what you're talking about.” She hands Sheena her phone, “give me your number though. Honestly if you didn't know Amethyst I wouldn't have said yes.” She's only slightly lying.

Sheena takes the phone, messes around with the contact information to add her number. “Oh? You don't say.” She knew Amethyst because a member of the band at the party was dating her. She was a DJ who normally played set lists at bars and had a very short temper when it came to people but not with Amethyst for some reason. Pearl's met her once before but the woman was being too much of a hard ass to even talk sense into.

“She thinks you like me.” It was another reason; she really was expecting something else tonight. “I just don't want this to become you're helping me because of that.”

“So, that's why you said yes. You think I like you. I get it now.” She snickers, handing Pearl her phone back. “No tricks. I promise. Come by Thursday night if you can and want to stay here for the night. If not, come by Friday whenever you want to. Do you want me to walk you back to your car?” 

She shakes her head as she stands up, putting her phone away and twisting her fingers in the fabric of the hem of her sweater. “I'll manage. Thank you, again.” 

Pearl leaves Sheena's house, tries to adjust to the cool air from the warmth inside. She didn't know what she was thinking but out of everyone she has ever met or spoken to, Sheena didn't make her feel as alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, when I wrote this last September I noticed today I had written a second chapter and just never edited it or put it up. I wrote it in October. The thing is, I don't feel like editing it. the punctuation is a mess and I'm aware. So, please just manage with this until I get around to editing it out.

At home Pearl's schedule was rather difficult. On the weekdays, her mother analyzed her performances and walked her through dance routines, drove her to difference practices and doctor appointments, and even kept an eye on her food intake. Weekends were when she had a little free time and she looked forward to it because she could spend time with Sheena and that meant away from home. It's only been almost six months since the two met and it wasn't their relationship Pearl had any problems with, it was what Sheena was asking of her in terms of moving out and moving on from her mother's control.

It starts off with simple things, add more calories to her diet, miss a work out or two, and moving some of her clothes and things to Sheena's spare bedroom so when she's ready to move out her things are already gone. She even convinces Pearl to get her first piercing—when she was little drunk—and now has a little diamond ring with a pastel pink bow hanging off it on her navel. It’s hard to hide because of weigh-ins her mother makes her do in very little clothing but she’s glad she did it. Most of what she is asked to do makes her anxiety rise just thinking about it but it's already been done; she's missing half of her clothes and a large portion of her books and notebooks that were once in her room. Even her prized music box is stored on the dresser in that spare bedroom along with some of her more intimate items.

She really appreciates Sheena wanting to help her get out of her house but she still feels so guilty for doing it, for leaving her father to deal with her mother. She can't even explain what happened to make her mother begin to act this way, because it wasn't just her ruining that audition and not getting chosen, but her mother never talks to her about anything in the first place. She didn't know about the pending divorce her parents had been speaking about until almost a year after they finalized it—even if her father still lives at home with them—and didn't know her great-grandmother had died until six months after that happened. Her mother keeps so many secrets from her and she cannot figure out why she's expected to trust her anymore.

Pearl really feels the only person she can trust anymore is Amethyst and she is slowly learning how to trust other people like Sheena. It's hard for her because she doesn't want to be taken advantage of or used. She knows that Sheena isn't doing this because of any ulterior motives but at the same time she has so many doubts about their possible relationship. Maybe it's because Pearl finds the idea of being with her in a sexual way extremely appealing or maybe because she gets a tad jealous when she's come over early in the morning and there's another woman in the house that Sheena slept with the night before. And Sheena's single, Pearl knows it and so does every woman she's met in the past month. She doesn't want a relationship, doesn't want to be tied down while she's still working on her career as an artist and as much as she'd love to settle down in the future, it wouldn't be in Ocean Town.

She just can't help but thinking of any possibilities of her and Sheena moving their relationship farther along than just being friends. She doesn't know why she obsesses over it or wants it because she normally just falls for people so easily. It's the reason why her and Amethyst were friends. They met her sophomore year of high school when Amethyst was her volunteered tour guide for the school because she just wanted to get out of classes. Pearl was nervous because it was another new school and Amethyst heavily flirted with her which didn't make her nerves any better. Her first sexual experience however was in Amethyst's bedroom followed by a lot of other firsts. Drinking, smoking, binge watching television shows and simply binging. Everything she knows is mostly because of Amethyst or her impromptu searches on her cellphone.

All she knows is she can't look up how to talk to someone about how she feels and she doesn't know if she feels this way because Sheena is showing her any kind of affection or attention in the first place or because she genuinely likes the woman. At the same time she's young, she's going to be twenty-one in a few months and she still lives at home without a career—let alone a job—and there's no way Sheena would even want to be with her in the first place. She knows she must stop thinking this way and try to focus on what she was trying to achieve in the first place; control over her life.

Currently however, she was trying to count out the number of pretzels she has in her hand that she taken from the bowl on the coffee table. Her mother had just been harder on her since she started gaining weight from drinking every Friday with Sheena or eating unhealthy food or the weekly binges she was getting into habit of doing. She knew it only made her mother frustrated and her workouts longer and more intense, but the freedom she had to do it was nice. Sheena spots her from the kitchen, comes over and hands her an opened can of peach lemonade and she can already smell the vodka mixed in.

“What are you doing?” Sheena asks, sitting on the couch next to Pearl and she sets the can down to move the blanket in her lap closer to her.

“Nothing.”

“I thought we talked about this.”

“I have a competition coming up and my mom’s just being...” She trails off, not able to quite find a word to describe her.

“An asshole.”

“Yes. Okay.” She sighs, “there's a talent scout that my mom knows from when she was a dancer and she thinks he might like me if I lose weight.”

“I have a question.” Sheena starts, taking a pretzel from Pearl's hand and eating it, “when you go to the doctor and they weigh you and take your blood pressure, what do they say?”

“That my blood pressure is really low, my weight is really low and I'm at high risk for a heart attack because of the stress I put on my body between ballet and my diet. Every single time I go my weight is lower and they've tried diagnosing me before with an eating disorder but my mom steps in. I've told them since I was fifteen that I don't have a problem with food, she does and she forces her problems onto me.”

“Did anyone ever call child protection services?”

“A few times. My mom's good with getting around the system I guess or didn't see what she was doing as bad. But I spent half of my what was supposed to be my freshmen year of high school dealing with hospital and doctor and cops because of that. It’s why I switched schools.”

“Okay, do you think you're at a place now where you would be comfortable just going home and packing the rest of your stuff up and staying here?”

Pearl looks at her and then down to the pretzel sticks in her hand. She had counted out twenty-four originally and she eats one and now there are twenty-two and forty-five point eight calories in her hands not to mention the calories in the drink. 

“Stop counting.” Sheena speaks and Pearl looks back at her, “you told me you had a college savings account.”

“Yeah, I have the money but my mom-”

“Stop with your mom. I don't care about your mom just, you have the money and the means to live on your own. If you aren't comfortable living with me, I'm sure I could find you someone to but in the meantime, I really want you out of there.”

Pearl eats another pretzel, “I'm not uncomfortable but I don't want to inconvenience you. You really want a stranger-”

“You are not a stranger. If I went out and put an ad for a roommate, I would have a complete stranger living with me but I've known you for almost six months, Pearl. I don't understand why you act like you're some big mystery and we barely know each other or why you think people don't care what you have to say or care about anything you have to give. I care. I really do.” Sheena reaches to grab the remote on the coffee table. “I'll stop pushing but just let Amethyst and I help.”

Pearl's not sure why she always wants to please people but she can't help it. She stops going home because Sheena asks her to and because it's a nightmare every moment she's there. She spends the next week putting the rest of her things into boxes and Amethyst helps her bring it to—what she considers—her new place. She can't just leave however, she has to tell her mom and explain to her mom she isn't going to come back home. She has the means to take care of herself and Sheena has even helped her make it so her mother can't touch her accounts or personal information anymore.

She's spent all this energy making sure her mother won't be able to bother her when she leaves and not into the conversation of what she's going to say. Maybe it's because she's been putting it off for another month and it's July again. Another hot month where her mom blasts the air conditioner on high because cold helps you shiver and burn calories. She's not good with confrontation, anyone who knows her can tell she hates it but when it comes to her mother it's a different story. She's ready to do this on her own but isn't ready for any sort of backlash that might leave with it.

She tells her mother on the Friday morning before she's ready to head out to Sheena's. She's spent the past three days surviving on nothing but coffee and water in her stomach and the lack of food doesn't help her mood stay calm. She's so hesitant but every time she speaks her words are filled with spite, hatred for the woman who brought her into this world. “I'm not staying here anymore.” She tries to explain what she has said to her mother but the woman only laughs, fixes the perfectly made bun on top of her head and crosses her arms. “Why are you laughing?”

“Well, where do you think you're going to go?” She's tidying up the living room, putting a few books back onto the case but Pearl can see the trouble she's having walking. Her mother injured her leg in a car accident but it wasn't the only thing she's ruined. “Amethyst has no means to support yourself let alone you.” Her mother was rarely mad at her for any actions that didn't involve her involvement in dance or her normal routines and she finds this rather hysterical.

“You haven't noticed that my room is packed up?”

“Never mind that. You're a child, Pearl. You can't just say these things and expect me to believe you when you don't have any friends and you don't have the passion that I had at your age. I should stay home and help you with your routines especially with that weight gain.”

“You're not listening to me. You never listen to me. Do you even care what I want?” She shakes her head, still watching her mother move around the room as if everything was still perfect. Their entire house has been organized in such a way where if one thing was out of place it was so easy to see and fix the mistake.

“You've always been indecisive, dear. It's just easier for me to make the decisions for you especially when you don't know what you want and I do.”

Pearl desperately wants to scream at her mom but always worries about any repercussions it may have on the situation. “You can't keep doing this to me. You took me off of the medication that was working for me, you picked my high school classes and clubs and sports and you never let me do what I want to do. I'm not a child, mom. Just because you ruined your life because you refused to accept you had a problem doesn't mean I'm going to too.”

Her mother sighs, comes closer to her and Pearl only tries to keep her stance. “We have this argument almost twice a month and you don't seem to see the impact it has on me.”

There she goes again, Pearl thinks, making everything about herself as if she's the only person struggling.

“How do you think this makes me look when your father asks me how you're doing or the women at church on Sundays?”

“You lie like you always do,” she says under her breath as her phone vibrates in her pocket. “But it doesn't matter. Amethyst is here to pick me up and I'm not planning on coming back.” She tries to be mature about it, doesn't want to yell at her mother about how much she hates her because she doesn't. She wishes she had more freedom, wishes she was given the same opportunities someone like Amethyst had growing up but doesn't hate her mother. If she spent her entire life training to dance in reasonable circumstance, with just a little more freedom she might not complain but it took her four years to even get Friday's off from the rigid schedule.

“You can't just leave me, Pearl.”

Pearl moves to the door, picks up the duffel bag with the rest of her things and she opens the door but her mother quickly grabs her arm. “Let go of me.”

“You can't leave me. What am I supposed to do? Who is going to take care of your training or make sure you're eating right or take care of all your appointments? No one is going to care about you or love you as much as I do.”

Pearl pulls her arm away from her mother and manages to get out of the house without another outburst from the woman.


End file.
